


your day, your week, your month

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Series: like we're stuck in second gear [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, sometimes ur just overwhelmed by love and dylan strome is the only one who can help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18557722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “Mathew,” he says. “Who are you talking to?”“An unhelpful dipshit.”“Mat.”Mat sighs. “I’m talking to you, Dylan William Strome, my dear friend who happens to be an unhelpful dipshit.”





	your day, your week, your month

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> set right after the isles sweep. mat barzal is a mess and i won't be told otherwise. it's very late and i need to sleep so VERY UNBETAD

It’s 2am when Dylan’s phone rings, and he answers without thinking. He’s wide awake, all the lights in the living room are on, and 2am is the when he does some of his finest work, generally speaking.

Alex doesn’t really get what he means when he says that, but he accepts it, because he seems to have realized that the best way to understand Dylan is to stop trying to understand him.

Dylan appreciates this.

“Sup?” he says, idly scratching at Ralph’s head, because Ralph is as much of a night owl as you can be when you’re a creature that sleeps roughly 20 hours a day.

“It’s me,” a voice says on the other end, sounding very serious.

Dylan looks at his screen to see who the hell he’s talking to, because when someone greets you like you’re in the middle of a spy mission, it’s best to not stop and ask for clarification.

“Barzy, dude!” Dylan says cheerfully. “Congrats on the—“

“Yeah, we crushed them, it was awesome,” Mat says, way too nonchalant for someone who just swept the first round of a playoff series against a team lead by his childhood hero. “I need your help.”

Okay, the ‘not asking for clarification’ thing does have its limits. “What does that even mean?”

“How do I propose?” Mat demands.

Dylan startles a little, and Ralph gives him a concerned look.

“Can you repeat that?” he says, blinking very hard.

“I want to propose,” Mat says. “Like, marriage. To my boyfriend. How do I do that?”

“Okay, uh— a couple of follow up questions,” Dylan says, ignoring the way Mat groans impatiently on the other end. “When did you decide you were going to do this, _why_ did you decide you were going to do this, and why did you decide call _me_ about it?”

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“Yes, you tell me all the time.”

“Just checking,” Mat says. “I just— I looked at him? A few minutes ago? And it was like, whoa, I wanna spend the rest of my life with him. But he was asleep, so I called you instead.”

“Gotcha,” Dylan says. “And why are you awake?”

“I don’t know, love? Adrenaline? Just— how do I propose, dude?”

“Why do you say it like it’s something I’d have personal experience with? I’ve never proposed to anyone.”

“Never?”

Dylan takes a second to check that he’s not forgetting about a broken off engagement from his past, but he’s 22, so he’s pretty sure he’s in the clear. “Yeah, never.”

“Well— you have an older brother. How did he do it?”

“I’d have to ask him,” Dylan says. “Dude, have you and Tito, like... talked about this?”

“About what?”

“Marriage.”

“I— we— no, not really. That’s what the proposal is for, right?”

“Right, but usually people have some sort of discussion about their expectations and shit before the proposing happens.”

“Not necessarily,” Mat says. “You— shut up. What do you know about proposing, anyway?”

Dylan doesn’t remind Mat that he’s the one who made this phone call in the first place. He can recognize floundering when he hears it.

“Mathew,” he says. “Who are you talking to?”

“An unhelpful dipshit.”

“Mat.”

Mat sighs. “I’m talking to you, Dylan William Strome, my dear friend who happens to be an unhelpful dipshit.”

Dylan nods in approval, even though Mat can’t see.

“And I, Dylan Strome, am telling you, Mat Barzal, that you might want to slow down,” he says. “Sit with that for a second, dude.”

There’s a beat on the other end, and then, in the most horrified voice Dylan’s ever heard: “Oh my god.”

“You get what I’m saying now?”

“I— I’m losing my mind,” Mat says. “Oh my god. Oh my _god._ Oh my— what the actual fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Dylan says. “Shit like this just happens when you’re in love.”

“Shit like what?”

“Like— moony-eyed romantic urges, or whatever,” Dylan says. “It makes sense, y’know?”

“I don’t know, actually,” Mat says flatly.

“Okay, well— think of it like this,” Dylan says. “You know how you’re in love, but most of the time it’s cool and chill, or whatever?”

“No offense, but what would you know about being cool and chill?”

“Since when do you say no offense? You’re clearly trying to offend me,” Dylan says. “Anyway, you’re in love, right, but you still have to live your life and crap, and so sometimes the part of love that’s all, _holy fuck I’m in love, this is wild,_ gets put on the back burner, because you have to be a person. But then it builds up, right? And before you know it, it’s 3AM, and you’re having a crisis because you have too many feelings and can’t sleep.”

“And this is a universal thing?” Mat asks, sounding skeptical.

“Dude, you think you’re the first friend I’ve ever had call me after midnight asking me to help them make a bad choice?” Dylan says. “I don’t even think you’re the first one this week.“

“I’m in good company, then,” Mat says.

“Well, you know who I’m friends with.”

“So, I’m in...”

“...company,” Dylan says, which might be a little mean, but it’s also accurate, and anyway, he doesn’t think Mat would be all that excited to hear that he’s handling his personal life about as well as Connor McDavid is.

“Alright, well,” Mat says, “what do I do, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, right now, I’ve got all this energy, and all these feelings, and, like— what do I do?”

“I mean, there are the usual options,” Dylan says. “Either wake him up and bang about it, or crawl in bed and get spooned over it.”

“Okay, well, he’s tired, so I’m not doing that first thing,” Mat says. “Why do you assume he’s the one doing the spooning?”

Dylan rolls his eyes. “You and I are way too similar for you not to be a little spoon.”

“You know being a little spoon isn’t a personality trait, right?”

“You know hating me isn’t a personality trait, right?”

Mat grumbles. “C’mon, man.”

“What?”

“You know I don’t hate you.”

Dylan grins. “Aww, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Mat groans.

“Love you too, pal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mat says. “Love you bro. Night.”

“Night,” Dylan says, and then he pulls the receiver away from his ear, says “get spooned!” one last time, and ends the call.

So really, all in all, it goes about as well as could reasonably be expected.

A few minutes later, Alex pokes his head into the living room. Ralph, who isn’t great at telling the difference between Daytime Alex and Sleepy Alex, bounds over to him.

Naturally, Alex kneels down and gives him the requisite tummy rub.

“Shit, sorry,” Dylan says. “Did I wake you up?”

Alex shakes his head. “Nah. Who was it?”

“Just Mat,” Dylan says.

Alex makes a face, and Ralph gives him a confused look. “You can’t say ‘just Matt’ and expect me to know who you’re talking about, everyone we know has the same first name.”

“Barzal,” Dylan says, grinning a bit, and he lets it widen when Alex looks even more confused at that. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why wasn’t he busy? Or, like, sleeping?”

“He was having a moment,” Dylan says. “I had to talk him out of proposing.”

Alex snorts. “Jesus, has he never had an adrenaline rush before?”

“I think it’s more that he’s never had a real relationship before,” Dylan says.

“I guess that’ll do it,” Alex says. “Being in love can make you weird.”

“Speak for yourself, I’ve always been weird.”

“That’s true,” Alex says, laughing a little. “You coming to bed soon, weirdo?”

Dylan thinks about saying ‘in a second,’ because he’s not sure he’s quite at the level of exhaustion yet where sleep is the only option, but then he remembers that he’s been trying to make better choices and go to sleep at more reasonable hours, because sometimes the best way to deal with an extra-long offseason is to fuck around and fix your bad habits.

“I wasn’t going to, but you look all cozy,” Dylan says, getting up off the couch. “Hope you’re in the mood to jetpack.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'll put something real here in the morning but if ur reading this between now and the time i fix it: how fucking funny would a mat/dylan sentinel/guide fic be
> 
> eta, 4/24: i'm leaving the sentinel/guide fic idea in the endnotes here actually because it matters to me and y'all seem to enjoy that concept. made a few minor changes after a quick but thorough read-through! 'jetpack' is a distressingly endearing term for when a much shorter person is the big spoon, in case u didn't know. and now you know, and now you have that in your life, and you're welcome. 
> 
> also, it was REALLY FUN to write dylan in this same 'verse, mostly because he's a lot more confident now than he was in the last story, and having him be the calm voice of reason felt like the growth he deserved. i like to think he and nick were sort of a thing for a while, but it fizzled out when they were in different places; also, dylan probably wasn't in a place to date at the beginning of that season, b/c he was still sort of fixated on finding his place within the org, so he called it off before they got too invested. it was dylan's first mature breakup! they were friends again by the time dylan got traded, and now he's sort of lowkey hoping that nick and chych become a thing. 
> 
> ...y'know. in case u were wondering.
> 
> anyway: dylan and alex, as of this story, are ~5 months into "taking it slow," which means they're both paying full rent on apartments they each live in half the time. dylan DID call mat a week after he got traded to ask if he thought dylan was only having feeling for alex because he was spiraling; mat rolled his eyes and informed dylan that he was clearly having the time of his life in chicago and was perfectly capable of a mature relationship, and also that he should follow his heart (and to please never make mat say those words again)
> 
> mat and tito are in an interesting place. mat spends his days oscillating between "this is it for me he is destiny" and "this is all casual." tito just likes spending time with mat and thinks he needs to get out of his own head, and quietly he thinks they're gonna be together for a while, but if mat had proposed? tito would have assumed it was mat spiraling and potentially gotten paranoid about mat rushing things because of Actual Reasons (mat is not! he's just in love!) and it would've been... a lowkey disaster. tito's done a good job evening mat out, but part of that is that this relationship has unlocked the part of mat that has actual feelings. neither of them wants to sabotage it. mat knows this subconsciously, and it is perhaps the reason he called dylan. sometimes, u need the most ridiculous person you know to tell u that ur being ridiculous, y'know? 
> 
> tl;dr: everyone is happy and in a solid place. in ur early 20's, that's more or less the equivalent of living happily ever after.


End file.
